That's How I See It

I spoke too soon. About the perpetual beating of Beets' hinder parts. With the pool being open all winter, I thought my swimming fitness would soar over the top. What I had forgotten is that though I have a more convenient access to the water, I'm still a cold water sissy and can't stay in long enough now to get a real workout.

Tuesday I ran 3.1 miles and went to Twin Rivers. The water was 66 degrees, and I only lasted 1,600 meter before I couldn't take it anymore. Wednesday I didn't do anything physical. My knee was sore, I was tired, and I had a night class. Besides that, my cool water partner, Big John Misterfeld, canceled on me. So I got to thinking about Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, our selection for the evening, and I would up re-watching the movie not once but twice. That's right, I watched the film two times that afternoon, went to class and we watched there, then I went home and re-watched the ending. That's three full viewings and one partial for the day.

I got it!

Finally, I got it!

I have long been fascinated by this piece of cinema, and it is the only one I am showing this semester that I don't hold the analytical key to. But on my drive home from class Wednesday night, a light bulb went off in my head.

It's a love story.

If you have ever watched this movie, you no doubt think I am seriously misguided, but I'm not. It's a love story. George and Martha fight like enraged MMA combatants. They fight verbally. They fight physically. They fight drunkenly. She flirts with another man, belittles George (skillfully, brutally, constantly), and even commits adultery on him all in one inebriated night. He dishes out to her in return. In one scene, he pulls a rifle on her; in another he begins to strangle her and has to be physically restrained by another man. They fight in a parking lot. She almost runs him over with a car.

It's a love story. That's all I'm going to say about that for now. If you want to know more, you will have to meet me for coffee, and we can discuss it.

Thursday, Big John and I met up at the pool. This was the first time he had been in the water in about a week, and the temps had fallen a lot. I thought, he's not going to be able to handle this. The water was 65. I had to get out after only 1,600. He got out because I did. Geez, anybody can beat me at this. I guess I really am a cold water sissy.

We were back Friday. The air was 56, the water 64. I wore a rash guard and a pair of socks, but I only managed 2,000 before I crawled out because I was losing my right leg. Really, it was going away on me. Oddly, my hands were still good. Last year, it was always the hands that went away. But the water is still 60-something. It seems that at 60 and below, the water is a different animal. It is. My body reacts differently. I'm also beginning to think that a pool is more difficult to swim cold that open water. The reason being that the walls cause a cessation (however momentarily) of stroking, hence heat production, and the push off the wall blasts one with a tremendous flow of water over the body. Moving water takes heat away very efficiently. Think of your car engine. If the water quits circulating from the radiator through the engine block, what happens? But flowing water pulls heat out of the engine so that you can drive and drive and drive. When you flip and come off the wall, you are going as fast as you ever will in water under your own power. Heat goes away.

Those are my thoughts on it. I am still very inexperienced at this stuff so my views may change, but that's how I see Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and cold water swimming, pool vs open water. I'll be getting back in the water next week. I will also be discussing the movie with my class. Can't wait.